


Writing

by tiredd_writer



Category: Original - Fandom
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-19 04:23:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16527284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiredd_writer/pseuds/tiredd_writer





	Writing

The chilling breeze hits her face, dark clouds gathering above. Moonlight hits the lake and reflects back up, cause the fog to light up. A small lanter sits on one side of the canoe and illuminates the area the best it can. Anther harsh wind causes the boat to rock and she begins to shiver. She looks around quickly to make sure she’s alone. Once the coast is clear, she pulls out the box.   
It’s a small box, the color of blood after it dries. On top of the hexagonal box is a black marking of a sword with two snakes wrapped around it. Pulling the key off of the necklace she wore, she unlocked the box. Taking a deep breath she opened it.   
Inside there lay a new necklace, a pendant of the same sword and snakes hanging on the silver chain. With a shaking hand, she pulled it out of the box. She stated at it for a long time before closing her eyes and putting it on.   
The second the necklace touches her neck, the clouds swirl and the wind howls. The once placid water begins to shake and the canoe is tossed around the waves. She grabs onto the boat, her knuckles turning white.   
“I am Silvain, god to all, who has summed me?” a booming voice questions from the heavens above.   
“Me.” the girl in the boat now stands, stumbling to gain her footing.  
“And who are you?”  
“I-well I’m Florence.” She replies, finally able to stand upright as the water begins to still.   
“Why have you summed me, you pitiful child.”  
“Well, you see, I well I need your help.” She looks up at the sky, and nearky junps out of her skin as she makes eye contact with a man. He is right infront of her now, the disembodied voice now having a form. Straight brown hair in a precise haircut and brown eyes to match lay on his face, as well as many freckles. This man did not match the deep, loud voice Florence had heard before.   
“What kind of help?” He questions, the brunette stepping closer. His voice was now more of a normal pitch, but still a little loud and carried the same authority as before.   
“I need your help to escape.”


End file.
